


Long Train Ride

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Motion Sickness, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Jack usually planned ahead for trips that involved the youngster, McCree, who got notorious motion sickness. With Dramamine being too powerful for him to use before a mission, arrangements were usually made for them to be in separate compartments. Except for when, well…it didn’t.





	Long Train Ride

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: Repear76 gives me actual life. Based on your last fic about Jack being a sympathy puker, perhaps you could do a fic about someone getting sick in a car (or any other enclosed place like a train or whatever, it’s up to you) with Gabe being like ‘ffs Jack pls don’t do it’ but at the same time almost instantly looking for something for Morrison to throw up in.

“Great. That’s just…” Morrison huffed, pressing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

“What? They forgot your sparkling water?” Gabe teased, coming to peek at the paper Jack was reviewing. On it was the seating arrangements Morrison had spent the night drawing up—which was ridiculous given there was only the three of them—but atop that lay three tickets…for the same train cabin.

“Sorry I’m late,” McCree said coming up huffing and puffing.

Morrison said nothing, simply thrusting the ticket into the young gunslinger’s hand, and turning to get onto the train. McCree frowned, taking it, and straightening out his hat before he followed. He had no idea what he’d done to catch the Strike Commander’s ire. Jack loved  _everyone._  Even if you didn’t serve under him, he took you under his wing…except for him. When they traveled, he seemed to avoid him.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Gabe said, following him in. “Just focus on the mission.”

“Yessir,” Jesse replied quietly, and was pleasantly surprised when he realized he was sharing a room with the both of them. Taking a seat on the bucket seat that spanned the entire side of his side of the cabin, he scooted to look out the window.

Jack took a seat across from him, pulling out paperwork that he began to work at. Gabe joined them not long after, and soon the train was in motion.

McCree kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, doing his best to keep his head still as he could. The train simply sped along the tracks, while Jack and Gabe talked quietly about the plans again. Their voices melded into a blur, the details not really a thing the young sharpshooter cared about. Point him in a direction, tell him who to shoot. It’d be over before the dust even settled.

Just the way he liked it.

“I’m not doing that. We’ve been planning this for weeks, I’m not going to change it just because you feel like shooting a couple extra people like an impetuous child,” Jack frowned at Gabriel.

“What happened to that ol’ get up and go, Morrison? Getting tired already?” Reyes goaded his friend. “You can step down anytime, I’m sure I can—“

“I’m fine, thank you. You do you, I’ve got this. We’re doing it my way, and that’s final,” Morrison said, putting his foot down on the subject.

It infuriated and attracted Gabriel to him more than he’d ever tell him.

“Fine.” He took the schematics marked up with their notes from his hand and turned them around. It was a short reach to grab McCree’s arm. “Eh, kid, you can read a schematic, yeah?”

“I’m familiar,” McCree said with a confident little smirk, though it wavered some as he looked down at that one. This facility was huge…more than he expected it to be for it just being a three-person mission.

“Good, then see this here?” Reyes pointed at an entry way on the north end of the building. “This is where you’re to wait for the signal.”

“Should be minimal security there. At night, they only place a single stationary guard there, and one more that patrols at :15, :35, and :55 past the hour,” Jack chimed in. “Easy enough for you.”

“Plenty.” He agreed, watching as Jack proceeded to drag his finger along the map to show the patrol route, pointing out the written details about what the pat would do at what location and for how long. Jesse took a deep breath as his vision swam a bit.

At some point, Gabe took back over, pointing out more things, and though his eyes followed their fingers, McCree wasn’t hearing any of it. It felt like the train was simply free-falling without any real destination. When it approached corners, McCree could no longer anticipate the movement without looking outside, and it was almost as if his brain continued traveling in the previous direction while his body went in a total other.

His palms sweat some, and he wiped them on his pants.

“Hey…McCree. McCree?” Gabe snapped in front of his face a couple times, getting no immediate response from him other than the way his breathing deepened and almost quickened at the same time. Jack’s eyes widened.

“Hey! Hey…no! No…don’t do it. Don’t…don’t you do what I think you’re about to…” Jack said, moving to throw the windows of their tiny cabin open.

Too late. McCree took two heaving breaths before he pitched forward and vomited on the floor between his legs. His head lulled a little, disoriented before he coughed hard and brought up another watery wave of vomit to splash across the floor.

“Jack…” Gabriel warned, already getting up and moving into action. “Don’t you fucking dare…”

Morrison gave him a miserable look, the side of his fist pressed to his lips as he stifled a gag.

“I’m going to fucking kill both of you before this trip is over, “ Gabe growled, finding but one lone trash can in the room…on the other side of the both of them, fixed into the wall in a way that required it being pulled out. “I’m going to shoot your fucking corpses.”

He climbed over Jack’s heaving back, the sound of his heaves just making a teary-eyed McCree vomit more. Like a chain reaction, Jack gagged in reply to it. He wrestled the rickety trash can out. “In there, in there.”

Jack barely had time to lean over it, hands gripping either side, as his next retch brought up a small wave of coffee and bile.

Gabriel rubbed his back with an exasperated sigh, and caught McCree’s hat before he could vomit it into the sick already on the floor. “You shitbabies are going to be the death of me.”

It was going to a  _long fucking trip._


End file.
